An Open Letter to Hollywood from an Aerospace Engineer

Short version: you clearly know nothing about how plane crashes happen. Please consult someone who does.

I have seen a number of plane crashes in movies and TV. This really shouldn't be a surprise; they are big, dramatic events, so you can burn a fair amount of your special effects budget (or with some careful use of models and stock footage, very little of it) in a nice dramatic scene.

Problem is, real plane crashes (even of light aircraft, much less the full sized commercial widebodies that the TV and movie industry prefers) are really rare, so people don't have much idea what they look like or what causes them.

Or, more to the point of what triggered this note, what can NOT cause them.

I have now seen it several times (most recently on a TV show): someone gets a firearm (sidearm or one-shot, note, not even a rifle) onto an airplane, and fires a round that punches through the sidewall, often at a window. This causes the sidewall to explode outward, decompressing the airplane and causing it to crash.

WRONG!

First off, there is actually no guarantee that such a round would penetrate all the way to the outside. Possible? Certainly. Probable? Depends on the round and exactly where it hits. A window is, granted, an easier barrier to beat than the sidewall/insulation/skin stack up.

But let's set that aside and say you do puncture the pressure vessel. What happens? Contrary to some perceptions aircraft at cruising altitude are not in a vacuum (if they were they couldn't fly). Nor is an aircraft cabin at full sea-level pressure during such a phase of flight. So there is MUCH less than one atmosphere of pressure difference between inside and outside. How much? Again, it depends. The 787 (which has not yes had a hull loss, much less a crash, that I've heard of and has a MUCH tougher skin) has a measurably higher pressure than other commercial birds out there and is still at less than sea-level pressure at cruising altitude.

Aircraft are designed to withstand depressurization through much bigger holes than even a shotgun with slugs could produce. Nor is the structure so weak that punching a hole will cause a secondary hull loss - again, designed and extensively tested for that. Shooting a hole in a window will break the window, and you will probably loose some of the 'glass' (it isn't) to secondary spalling, but the frame WILL remain. A round through the hull (assuming your bullet actually breaches the sidewall, the insulation, and still hits the skin with enough energy to break it) will expand even less.

So, the aircraft is depressurizing. There will be screaming, oxygen masks will deploy, etc. Will the airplane crash?

No.

The airplane WILL suddenly and (to the passengers) inexplicably dive. It will do so more steeply than anything most passengers have experienced outside of a roller coaster. This will not, however, be the first stage of a crash - it is a deliberate and carefully rehearsed action on the part of the flight crew to get the plane down to thicker air, where there is enough oxygen that people can breath it without passing out. See, those oxygen masks with the teeny little tubes and the bags they tell you may not inflate? That's temporary, supplemental oxygen. If you tried to breath that, and that alone, in a fully oxygen depleted atmosphere you would pass out. That's OK because as noted aircraft by definition do not fly in vacuum. There's always SOME oxygen outside the hull, and the pressure inside even after a full decompression won't be lower than the pressure outside. The oxygen system is designed to keep everyone conscious while the plane makes a worst case emergency descent (which can involve being stuck over the Himalayas and unable to descend to the desired altitude for a while).

So, the plane goes into a (by most people's definition, probably including your stomach's) steep dive for a few minutes, then... it levels off. Wow, we're really low now, we must be in danger of crashing if the pilot makes a mistake, right?

Wrong again. You're "low" by commercial cruising standards. You will, in fact, dive to under 10,000 feet. You might very well go down to 5,000. Plenty of margin for error.

So... we're fine?

Well, the pilot will have declared an emergency and will be looking for the nearest place to land before you even figure out what's going on.

Oooh! Emergency! So we're in great danger?

Again, sorry, no. You're in potential danger, and that's far too much for the FAA to allow. Commercial aircraft are designed to withstand any single failure without crashing (if you don't believe me, look up how many commercial widebodies have crashed throughout aviation history - and note that the worst aviation accident was on the ground!). By decompressing you've had one failure and used up your design margin, so you now have to land since the aircraft MIGHT not be OK if something ENTIRELY UNRELATED TO THE FIRST INCIDENT happened. Anything related to the first incident? We designed for that. Again, look at the crash statistics. We're good at designing for stuff.

So you CAN'T bring down a plane with a pistol?

Well, I can't say that, but your best odds are to shoot the pilot in the back of the head (while the autopilot is off, mind, which isn't for much of any given flight) and cause the co-pilot to panic for a minute, allowing the plane to get into an out of control condition which he can't recover from. Note that modern cockpit doors are "bullet proof". (I make a habit of using the quotes because it all depends on the bullet - a .50 BMG will hole a remarkable number of "bullet proof" items, but smuggling something that will fire THAT onto an airplane is beyond even my abilities. Yes I know how to smuggle a firearm onboard an airplane, I choose not to and I'm not going to say how on the internet.)

Huh. What if I shoot an engine?

Good luck. We design not only to fly on one engine, but to fly after one engine EXPLODES. Granted, that's a tough one, and especially if you were low at the time the pilot might not be able to recover. You still get better odds by shooting the pilot, though getting into the cockpit is non-trivial.

Uh... control cable?

Oooh, you did some homework! Yes, those cables (slowly becoming just more electrical wires) that turn the pilot's actions into flap, rudder, etc. movements are very imported for continued flight. Thus they are protected, dual-control, or can be worked around. A failure of a control cable would be a "single failure" so, say it with me! We designed for it. Besides, are you holding a set of blueprints while you aim?

Fuel tank?

Hollywood does like the "shooting a gas tank makes it explode" idea. Pity that's actually a low probability event (look up Mythbusters). Punching a hole in a tank does not inherently produce a spark to make fuel ignite. In fact we work VERY hard to ensure that there is nothing in or around a fuel tank that CAN make sparks (special coatings on fasteners, grounding wires all over the place, etc.). Bullets are typically made of lead and copper, neither of which is great for making sparks.

Despite our best efforts, accidents happen and people die. Over the years, however, we've made flying miles above the ground in an aluminum can filled with fuel, electronics, and other hazards safer than walking down the sidewalk. Again, look at the list of commercial widebody crashes. Note that the top ten usually includes the Tenerife incident, which was a ground collision, and a 2003 crash in Iran which was an IL-76 (a Russian design - the Russians just aren't as good as we are). You'll also usually see TWO losses to anti-aircraft missiles in the top 20 (Iran Air 655 in 1988 and KAL 007 in 1983). Sorry, we can't design for that. Depending on the list you may see 9/11. While the TSA is unlikely to stop another such attack, hardened cockpit doors and improved crew and flight procedures (thank you FAA, not TSA) will make such an attack VERY hard to replicate.

But even counting all those things that engineers can't design for, look at the list in total, no exceptions. Now look at the number of fatalities from car crashes, or from private aviation, every year.

We design well. Hollywood please take note.

From the Front Lines: June Faire

June Faire was the first weekend in June.

Yes, I'm more than a little behind on posting.

I participated in the 1st may become annual bardic competition of June Faire. It was a fairly standard head-to-head, fixed topic, contest. I did King Rorik for "War" and Dulcinea for "Love" and lost both rounds. Sigh. To be fair, there was some excellent competition out there. For one thing, there were bagpipes. I had never heard the Star Wars theme on bagpipes before, but now I have. :-)

I spent most of my time, however, with the Moneyer's Guild. Yes, that means 'almost all the time the Faire was open Saturday and about half of Sunday.' We were doing the fund raiser thing again, and I spent most of my time doing the demo/sales pitch.

We did take a little time Sunday, however, to give three of us (myself included) our Journeyman's Oaths. I am now a Journeyman of the Moneyer's Guild of An Tir. :-)

Scotland, Day 11

Homeward bound again.

I carefully collected Italian coins when I went to Italy, and naturally enough I decided to collect some UK coins in Scotland. I carefully sorted my coins to keep examples of each major minting (not each year, just head/tail combinations).

The US gets along with the penny, nickel, dime, and quarter plus slowly increasing use of dollar coins. Yes, we have $0.50 pieces and a few other oddities but they are rare.

In common circulation the UK has 1p, 2p, 5p, 10p, 20p, 50p, one pound, and two pound coins. They do not use one pound notes – the smallest paper money is a five. Paper notes, BTW, are not only issued by multiple mints but given distinctly different appearances by those mints. The Banks of England, Scotland, and Wales all issue currency. I expect this accounts for some of the variety in coins, as well. All the currency I took over was Bank of England, but much (though not all) of the paper change I got was Bank of Scotland. Anyway, back to coins.

The US has state (and now territory and national park) quarters.

In the UK I collected 31 different one pound coins, ignoring year marks.

The one pound coin is a solid hunk of metal – about the same diameter as a quarter but twice as thick. It is, notably, thick enough that they print words on the edge. This process must be at a different stage than the stamping, however, since the text shows up both ‘right side up’ and ‘upside down’ relative to the obverse/reverse. Three different faces are in use (all of Queen Elizabeth, just different portraits) and over a dozen different backs; about half of these had multiple faces, indicating a long minting history.

I bought two bottles of whiskey at the duty-free store, brining my total inbound load to just under four liters in eighteen containers. Yes, I declared it at US customs.

While at Heathrow I also saw my first A380 in person. I admit to prejudice, but they look like big ugly birds to me. The 747 which carried me back to Seattle is a much prettier aircraft.

British Airways served a tasty meal and 'high tea' on the return leg, which according to departure and arrival times was only an hour long. Ah, the fun of time zones. I managed to watch several movies in that hour.

Speaking of US Customs, three uniformed and two plainclothes CBP officers (granted, the latter could have been anything from local detectives to FBI – I can’t read plainclothes THAT well) were waiting on the jetway for the flight. A wall of uniforms at the official “border” I expected (and got), but five LEOs on the jetway makes me think something unusual was going on. What, I will probably never know. Entry into the US involved more paperwork than entry into the UK but no questions at all (OK, returning citizen vs. entering foreigner – I still expected more hassle on the US end). It seems reasonable to conclude that whatever caused five cops on the jetway had the rest of the CBP focusing on other things too, and uninterested in me.

All in all it was a marvelous trip. Not flawless, to be sure, but if I was offered the chance to do it all over again, flaws included, I would.

What more can one say?

Thank you Scotland for bagpipes, whiskey, dancing, and just being a blast in general.

Scotland Day 10

American tourist move of the day: needing to buy a piece of luggage to get all the souvenirs home.

Britishisms: too many to count. Heck, I found myself slipping unintentionally into a vaguely Scottish accent at one point…

Look, one of my suitcases was on its last legs anyway, OK? Yes, I most certainly DID leave room in my bags on the trip out for expected souvenirs.

I just didn’t leave nearly enough. Even with another bag it was a tight squeeze.

The American Contingent spent yet more time with the newlyweds. Notably, six of us went to the Scotch Malt Whiskey Society.

The SMWS is not a normal bar, nor do they even have a normal selection of whiskey. All the bottles behind the bar are the same shape, color, and have labels in the same pattern. The labels do not bear the names of distilleries, they bear numbers. And almost every one of them contains cask-strength single malt Scotch.

Cask strength means that the whiskey has not been cut with water (a normal step in the bottling process) after it is taken from the cask it was aged in. Thus while normal whiskey is ~80 proof, cask strength is ~120 proof.

I had assumed that something with that high an alcohol content would overwhelm the flavor. Laphroaig had already corrected that impression.

The SMWS showed me what I’d been missing. Cask strength not only gives fuller flavors, it makes it easier to pick out the subtle flavors one often sees listed on the better grade of whiskey. I suppose a connoisseur might find this like hitting a tack nail with a sledgehammer, but I do not have that refined or trained a palate. Four of us were drinking, and each of us ordered three drams, with much exchanging of tastes.

You might wonder how we decided what to order, there being only numbers to order by. Well, each number has a description. Not a sentence or two on the side of a bottle, a long paragraph of whimsical text which is as likely to note a hint of gasoline, or advise you to call to mind a Christmas dinner, as it is to mention a ginger finish. Names are applied, but no boring distillery name – “An enticement of sweet oak.” “Heather honey and burnt toast.” “Doctors’ surgeries and flower shops.” Drams are placed in one of 11 categories based on cost. This range from ~$7.50 for a Green Dram to about $50 for a White Dram, not forgetting the Copper Dram (which is more than the Gold Dram) or the Tartan Dram. I think whoever made the list had a few too many drams in their system at the time.

Sadly, they were out of “Below the Decks of the HMS Britannia.”

They do tell you the region (Speyside, Islay, etc.), the cask type, and so forth, in addition to the more entertaining elements of the description. For that matter, crowdsourcing has provided an app which you can use to look up the distillery, as part of the number is keyed that way. Without this aid I still managed to order three delicious drams, and I don’t think anyone got one they didn’t like.

I shall be exploring cask strength whiskeys with great interest from now on.

Scotland Day 9

Stirling Castle is in Stirling, and of course Edinburgh Castle is in Edinburgh. No surprises.

Stirling, however, would be at most a medium-sized town in the US. Edinburgh, while not huge, is a real city.

So the effect of a castle sitting on a volcanic plug in what is, basically, the middle of the city is more than slightly odd to American eyes.

Stirling would be a challenge to take, especially pre-gunpowder. I don’t think I’d want to attempt Edinburgh without modern weapons, preferably including heavy artillery. Helicopters flying a NOE approach would be subject to plunging fire from three of the sides.

I almost suffered a casualty on the approach myself – the wind took my hat off and nearly blew it away (and ‘away’ would have been over the edge of a fifty-plus foot drop). Even men in armor would find wind like that a complicating factor in an attack, and apparently it was not an abnormally windy day.

The castle, however, as legend tells it, was taken via a secret passage by thirty brave Scottish warriors who stormed the place and slaughtered the garrison. Modern historians have gently suggested there were probably more like 600 of them, while stipulating all the other aspects. The Scots are known to exaggerate just a wee bit from time to time.

The hill has been fortified since Roman times, though exactly when the first sections of the present structure were built are, once again, unknown.

The castle is home to two notable pieces of artillery. One is Mons Meg (I’m sure Google will provide pictures and history). I will note that one can, and I did, insert one’s head and shoulders fully into the muzzle. That is a Really Big Gun. The second piece of note is even more powerful, though less impressive on the surface and not at all SCA period: a modern 105mm howitzer. This one is still used – six days a week at 1PM it is fired as a time gun. The day it isn’t fired is Sunday. Guess which day I managed to visit?

Edinburgh is on the southern shore of an ocean inlet of the North Sea. One can fairly easily see the north shore from the castle. The tour guides are apparently asked if it is Norway (unreasonable but at least demonstrating some knowledge of geography), France (sigh), and the United States (perhaps someone who visited the Scotch Whiskey Experience on the way up to the castle).

The castle also has a very old, and very small chapel that is still used as such. When I say ‘very small’ in this case I mean that my living/dining room at home is about the same size. You can nearly stretch out your arms and touch two opposing walls on the short axis. Another thing you don’t really get from books or pictures.

Not to be outdone by Stirling, Edinburgh Castle has FIVE giftshops. Admittedly this includes several for separate museums inside the structure. One of these is for the crown jewels of Scotland: the crown, the scepter, the sword, and the Really Big Rock. Technically that last is the Stone of Destiny… but you can’t help looking at this thing and thinking “Really Big Rock.” It is not planed, or some beautiful piece of marble, or in some mystic shape. It is a really big, vaguely rectangular prism, of… rock. It is also the only piece that is still in use – the King/Queen of England is also the King/Queen of Scotland, and the Stone is used in coronations to represent this fact; the monarch sits on a throne with the Stone underneath (in older days the kings of Scotland sat on it directly). It does not look like a comfortable rock, either. This means that part of the coronation planning includes a trip by a heavily armed convoy from Edinburgh to London carrying… a really big rock. The crown, scepter, and sword remain in Edinburgh.

I am of the opinion that this represents relations between Scotland and England very well indeed. “Yes, fine, you rule us, as a reward you may sit on our rock.”

Speaking of the Scotch Whiskey Experience while I did not get the tour I did stop in at their bar. Their bar has approximately 300 (an estimate, not an exaggeration) different whiskeys available (almost all Scotch). Just as an example, six different Auchentoshans, and six different Balvenies. They also have a nice chart which groups the various single malts by flavor. Find your favorite around the edge, push a button to turn its light on, and then see what’s nearby. I’ve already used this (sadly non-interactive in picture format) as a reference back here at home.

A bunch of the wedding guests joined the bride and groom for a tour of Mary King’s Close. A close is a medieval name for a narrow street (a narrow alley, in modern scale). Parts of this one and some of the surviving buildings are now three stories underground. It is done up as a piece of living history – the sort that doesn’t get into the history books. Our guide was a foul clanger (phonetic spelling, there); someone who was paid by the city to interact with plague victims while they lasted. I would have preferred a different choice of ambiance, or if they’d picked a single century and stuck to it, but once again walking through medieval rooms is an invaluable experience for a SCAdian. Some of the discussion of how the plague was dealt with I want to double check, but if correct is a nice bit of period knowledge.

We also joined the newlyweds for dinner, where I once again fooled someone into thinking I was current or ex-military without meaning to. This time it was a retired US Army colonel (surgeon, but still an O-6). I might have a future as a con artist if this ability of mine wasn’t completely unintentional. Also at this dinner I had haggis. I am told it was good haggis. If so I never want to have bad haggis, though I’d be willing to have good haggis again.

I don’t know – sushi, haggis, beer… I think I need to give up my standing conceptions about food. Yeah, the sushi thing happened a while ago (right after moving to Washington). It was still a major alteration in my standing list of likes and dislikes.

Scotland Day 8

Britishism of the day: “wee one” instead of “little one” or “baby.”

Before going to Scotland I asked a number of people if they wanted anything. One of the requests was a shirt from the Edinburgh Harley-Davidson dealer.

I have thought about learning to ride a motorcycle but have never actually been on one. So visiting a motorcycle dealer in another country was a little odd. Aside from the fact that it said “Edinburgh” on the signs and that prices were in pounds the dealership would have looked completely unremarkable in the US. Corporate branding at work, I suppose.

Mostly, however, today was about the wedding. You know, the official reason I went to Scotland?

The ceremony itself was brief and a purely civil function. It included what must have been the fourth or fifth time I’ve heard an excerpt from “The Velveteen Rabbit” at a wedding. This was not, so far as I know, an idea stolen from anyone else’s wedding – it has now appeared in just about every circle of friends I had in college but I don’t think it has done so in this circle before. I have never attended a purely civil ceremony in the US, but I was rather surprised to hear the bride and groom asked for their addresses by the officiate.

I wore my standard sport-coat, tie (MacGill tartan), white shirt, and khaki pants. I also wore a MacGill cummerbund for a little flair.

The bride did not wear pants. Neither did the groom.

Yes, he was wearing a kilt. In fact quite a few of the men there (including all of the wedding party) were wearing kilts.

The reception was very nice. Each table was a book rather than a number – the Aeneid, to pick a non-random example, rather than, say ‘table 3’. Each person’s place was then marked with a bookmark. I’m not sure to what extent books were matched to people – the Aeneid is certainly appropriate enough for me, of course.

The food was tasty, the speeches humorous and sometimes touching, and the wine and sparkly stuff were plentiful.

But the really fun part was the dancing.

The SCA rears its head again – the traditional Scottish dances have very clear ancestry in SCA-period English ‘country dances’. Dancing is a group affair with your partner typically only slightly more important than the other members of your set (anywhere from six to twenty or more people). Steps are simple, and it is apparently customary these days for a professional caller to demonstrate each dance and call sometimes call the motions for the first set. This last means that everyone can enjoy the dancing without prior knowledge while still actually, you know, DANCING. Thanks in no small part to several SCA dance classes this Yank with two left feet managed to swing his partners all over the floor without stepping on anyone’s feet. This was difficult at times – especially since one of my sets included a girl who looked to be about three.

Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer ‘real’ dancing to the modern ‘stand in one spot and move your hips and arms a bit’. I don’t know about other’s preferences, but just about everyone there danced at least once and it seemed to me that a good time was had by all.

Sadly, there were no bagpipes at the reception. I did feel a little cheated on that point, but there was a street piper playing outside the hall where the ceremony was held.

After the reception my bus-fu failed me and I wound up walking about two-thirds of the way back to the apartment. Walking in any urban area near midnight is not exactly on my lists of preferred activities, doubly so since in accordance with UK law I was not carrying even my knife. Yes, the UK has tighter regulations on knives than even ‘blue’ states in the US have on firearms. Take a look at their crime stats (especially the projected ones to cover unreported robberies and such) sometime and you will understand why my misreading of the bus map wound up causing me to have some nervous moments.

Edinburgh, however, while certainly not a city that never sleeps, is a city that walks. This means that the busy spaces do create mob safety zones, which luckily turned out to be most of my route. Still, I do not recommend others follow in my footsteps on this one.

Scotland Day 7

American tourist move of the day: “OK, we’ll meet back at the gift shop at [time].” [Time arrives]: “Uh… we didn’t say WHICH gift shop, did we…”

What is it about major Scottish tourist attractions and multiple gift shops? A castle, of course, has challenges if you want to use existing structure, but why on earth does the National Museum need four? OK, one of those was dedicated to a special exhibit on the Vikings. Fine. Why does it need three for day-to-day operations?

OK, that was my gripe about the National Museum. Now I’m going to rave.

Many museums (not enough, IMO, but many) have coins on display. Rarely they will be displayed in such a way that one can look at both the obverse and reverse. To date, however, I’d always seen coins displayed as individual items, usually far removed in time or place from other coins on display. This is very frustrating to collectors and moneyers, as we want to know what sorts of features of coins from a specific place and time were common or uncommon, not just whether they were present on one coin (useful as that admittedly is). It also gives a sense of coins being isolated artifacts, not common items of day-to-day use.

The Scottish National Museum has a horde of Roman coins on display. In a big pile. A big, gorgeous pile of silver, mostly in good shape. I wanted to run my fingers through it. I wanted to count and catalog it. I was more tempted than ever in my life to hire Remington Steel or Neal Caffrey to steal it. Shiny… hang on, need to wipe the drool off. That’s better. So. The Romans gave a bribe to a Scottish clan chief, who put it in a savings account (a clay pot in a hole in the ground). For some reason it remained there for centuries. I estimate on the order of 1,000 coins, more likely a lot more than that. There are clearly multiple mintings present, and varied levels of wear, though from what I could see all the coins were Roman denarii. This is fascinating on several levels. One, it gives a sense for how currency was regarded. The Romans could have provided an equal value of gold coins in a much smaller package, but didn’t. Nor was this a single minting or part of one that was delivered from the mint for this purpose – clearly it was assembled near to its destination from what was available. The scale is also interesting; we know a little about how Roman pay levels were, so we can say with some confidence what modern equivalents would be. Imaging bribing someone with stacks of $20 bills – not brand new notes in Federal Reserve wrappers, but an assortment of bills in varying states of wear with a couple of different bank wrappers. It gives a shape and context to the bribe – not some huge ceremonial event. More like a regular payment to a local warlord.

Almost as an aside, they also have a much smaller horde of Norse coins. This includes some trade silver coins from the Mideast (distinct Arabic writing) mixed with local mintings (runes and faces). I’d probably gush about this if I hadn’t still been recovering from the awe of the Roman horde when I saw this one. FYI, the Norse horde was a regular exhibit, not part of the special Viking exhibit. This is still an impressive and telling piece of history, mind you, it just lacks the scale and personal interest to me of the Roman horde.

The temporary Viking exhibit was a nice one. They took some pains to emphasize the regular elements of daily life in the various Norse countries and to educate people of all interest and knowledge levels. Thank to the SCA (I’ve often said that at night in An Tir everyone has a Norse persona) I know quite a bit about the Northmen, but I still learned more. They also, of course, thoroughly dismissed the myth of the horned helmets… but had them in the gift shop anyway for children. Oh well.

I could easily have spent multiple days in the museum with great pleasure. I could have spent a day or two just in the Roman section, for that matter! I barely scratched the surface of the bulk of the museum, but if the rest of their exhibits and artifacts are up to the standards of what I saw I would say this is a must-see for ANYONE visiting Scotland.

Whether you like Roman coins or not. I did mention those, right?

Scotland Day 6

Today was heavily a much-needed breather. I did get in some souvenir shopping along the Royal Mile. I also tasted some very fine whiskey. Bunnahabhain (18 y/o) is an interesting one - early on I got a nice licorice flavor, but some of the later sips were nicely sweet. I also found a place that had a low price for a tasting of Balvenie Portwood (a 21 y/o) which I really need to get a bottle of someday when I’m feeling rich or especially celebratory. The Royal Mile stretches from Edinburgh Castle (which is right in the middle of the city) down to another castle which is used as a royal residence. It caters heavily to the tourist trade, and along it are other tourist spots like Edinburgh Cathedral, the Mary King’s Close tour (more later), and so on. Every other building is a souvenir stand, a kiltmaker, or does whiskey tasting.

At one of the kilt makers I was able to confirm something I’d begun to suspect: there is only one company that makes mass-produced Clan badges and kilt pins, and they don’t make MacGill (the clan badge I like the most of the ones I’m entitled to). The tartan is available so a kilt is still a possibility, but a badge will need to be custom made. Sigh. In fact, the availability of clan merchandise was inversely proportional to my interest in the clans: MacGill all but unheard of, Carnegie spotted occasionally, and Irwin far from universal but findable. A clan like Campbell, for contrast (we had a Campbell as one of the other wedding attendees from the US, one of five of us who shared an apartment while in Edinburgh) was everywhere. So, somewhat distressingly to my SCA-trained instincts, was the Stuart Royal tartan – to my mind that should be worn only by those of royal blood.

I will note at this point that I made use of the English obsession with tea which has clearly filtered north to Scotland. I’m used to a coffee pot in hotels in the US, of course, but to have both a modern induction boiler and a coffeemaker AND two conventional teapots in the apartment was something of a surprise. In Edinburgh, thus, it was no trouble to boil all the water I drank. This precaution may have been unnecessary, of course, but since in restaurants when you asked for water they generally responded with “still or sparkling?” both referring to bottled water, I don’t think this was paranoia.

I often complain about the US government and its regulations, but it is nice to be able to drink tap water without fear or ill-taste in most of the US. At this point due to handy features on my fridge most of the water I drink IS filtered, but most of the restaurant water, for example, isn’t, and I can’t recall being offered bottled water in a restaurant outside of DC. The fact that DC is the city run most directly by the Feds is, I think, a significant point.

Scotland Day 5

American tourist move of the day: expecting the taxi driver to know where the apartment complex was (OK, he did, but it took a map to jog his memory – in my defense, I had made sure I HAD the map).

The morning was largely taken up by the return to Glasgow. Sixty miles without knowing the base speed limit for sure was a little easier the second time, but not much.

In Glasgow there were two targets of opportunity: St. Mungo’s religious museum, and Lordship House, a medieval house still standing as a museum.

St. Mungo’s was a disappointment, one of the few in all of Scotland. While there were some interesting artifacts it was clear that political correctness was the order of the day. The most egregious example was a room supposedly dedicated to the history of religion in Scotland. Seven religions were mentioned (Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hindi, Sikh, and two others I forget)… and given almost painfully even weight. Paganism, which ought to have been at least mentioned as a precursor, was not mentioned at all. One of the notable artifacts was oddly nonreligious: a turnshoe; the same sort of shoe I’ve made as an SCA project.

Lordship House also could have been better, but at least gave a good feel of a medieval residence (upper class, of course, but still useful), including a room with reproduction furnishings and fittings. Just walking through the house was a valuable experience for the development of my SCA persona.

In the afternoon, the time came to shift base to Edinburgh, where the wedding that was the official reason for this trip (and also the driver for its timing) was being held. I chose to do this by train.

I’ve ridden thousands of miles on trains in the US, including commuter rail, tourist, railfan special events, and of course Amtrak, but I’ve never been on a train outside the US. It was no surprise that Scotrail had features that were completely familiar. It was only a little bit of a surprise that they had their own unique imprint.

First off, it really brings home the scale of things. Glasgow is on the west coast of Scotland (admittedly via a notable bay) and Edinburgh is on the east coast. The trip between them took well under two hours, including a number of stops. A similar crossing in the US takes three days. To FLY coast to coast in the US takes longer than to do the trip by rail in Scotland. Nor is the corridor between them as urbanized as, say, the US Northeast Corridor (Boston to DC, give or take). Train service, however, is comparable – fast, regular trips (weekday departures were every hour or so).

Regular seating, however, is similar to ‘club car’ style or seated 1st class in the US. This is an odd contrast with commuter-rail style mid-car exits (no vestibules). Appropriate enough for what would be, in the US, a commuter rail service rather than the long-haul routes that Amtrak generally runs.

The service was on time, a smooth ride, and generally comfortable. I saw freight traffic only once which would have been an odd scarcity on a US long-haul route or even most commuter rail nets. Based on track layout and such I’m guessing that was probably typical for the Glasgow/Edinburgh route.

Scottish Taxis appear to be a distinct breed. This day was my second trip in one (two trips later on were much the same). The frame is that of a large car or small SUV, but the passenger area has a flat floor between a forward facing bench and a set of fold-down aft facing seats. The flat space looks big enough for a wheelchair, and is quite convenient for loading luggage. This style appears even more dominant than the Ford Crown Vic in the US (even before the Prius Revolution). It is an excellent design for the vehicle’s basic function, though I imagine the adrenalin junkie cab drivers in many US cities would find it rather clumsy in comparison to their regular vehicles, especially the ex-police cars which never had their pursuit packages fully removed. I nevertheless believe the design would have merit in the US, especially for airport service and for our increasing mobility-challenged population.

Scotland Day 4

Scotland is famous for many things. Kilts, Nessie, and bagpipes all get their turns in the spotlight, and deserve their time.

Today, however, we’re going to talk about something Scotland really puts their mark on the world with: whiskey.

It is said that God created beer so the Irish wouldn’t take over the world. If so he created whiskey because beer wasn’t going to be enough to hold back the Scots.

Today I took a long, winding, multi-legged journey to the Isle of Islay (yes, that translates to “the island of island”) mostly in order to take a distillery tour of Laphroaig. Perhaps I should say “The Distillery Tour” or give it its formal (and deserved) name to distinguish it from all lesser tours: The Water to Whiskey Experience.

Now, Islay malts are not my preferred substyle of the Scotch Malt Whiskey family. I mostly go for Speysides and Lowlands. Laphroaig, however, is something of an exception despite or perhaps because they are often considered the most extreme of the Islay malts. Also, loyal readers may remember my discussion of the Highland Games last year, specifically the whiskey tasting I did there. That humorous and educational event was run by Laphroaig, and was the driving force behind my decision to do the tour.

First, however, I had to get to Laphroaig, which meant first getting to Islay. I could have flown. Islay has an airport, and there are regular puddle-jumper flights from Glasgow airport. However while I do not hate British airport security anywhere near as much as the TSA, I’m not fond of them either. Also there was the cost, the need to check a bag coming back just for whiskey, etc. I decided to drive and take the ferry.

In the US, we have this idea that speed limit signs should be large, explicit, and regular. The United Kingdom believes they should be small, numerical only (just “50” not “Speed Limit 50”), and that you only need one per road. Once you’re on the road they will put up a sign if the speed limit drops, but then just have a symbol-only sign that means ‘resume speed’ without telling you what speed you should resume TO. For 60 miles they will do this. Not one single sign to indicate the ‘baseline’ speed appears anywhere.

They also have this thing about narrow roads. Not only are the roads narrow, they have curbs at the edges even when there is no reason for a curb. Put a lorry and a car on a narrow road approaching each other at a combined speed of 100mph and the lack of a margin for error becomes a matter of some concern. I did not hit any other vehicles, but I did kiss the curb a few times, which really gets your heart working when you do it at 50mph.

But I will happily send US engineers over to teach them about speed limit signs and shoulders if they will send a few back here, for there is one thing they do that we really should too: when a traffic light is about to turn green, it first flashes the yellow light once. This gives the stick-shifters time to get in gear, or the driver time to put his drink down, etc.

I arrived at the ferry terminal in good time, however, and the drive was very scenic. Got some shots of sunrise over Loch Lomond, a few more of mountains, valleys, and such. I don’t think it was technically the Highlands but it certainly gave a nice feel. The Irish Sea ferries share some traits with their cousins on Puget Sound but have articulated bows and stern ramps rather than being flat double-enders like the Sound ferries. They also have nicer seating. Oddly passengers are prohibited on the car deck while the ship is at sea (again unlike the Sound ferries). The crossing was smooth and uneventful.

Islay has a total population of some 4,000 and an area of several hundred square miles. With most of the population in two towns it is unsurprising that many of the roads are single lane (not one lane each way, one lane TOTAL) or lane-and-a-half. Stone walls on either side are not uncommon. This can make three cars into a major traffic jam. I’m surprised there is enough traffic between the island and the mainland for merit multiple ferry trips per day, but there demonstrably is (full ferries or close to it both ways).

Laphroaig has a sense of humor. Detailed signs explain to the “Friends of Laphroaig” how to go claim their square foot of land – including a reminder to bring a copy of War and Peace in case cattle are crossing the road and how to signal for a tractor if they need to be winched out of the bog. Laphroaig owns quite a bit of land, including its source water – the first stop on the tour. They served us a picnic lunch (VERY tasty and filling), get us a dram of 10 year old, and let us cut it with the very water used to make it (how often do you get to do that?). Most of us also got another dram for the walk back to the road. The guide then drove us over to the peat bog where they get their peat. Each of us got to cut some peat (I do not have a future as a peat cutter), and we were rewarded with a dram of cask strength… and a bit extra. ;-) If you ever visit a peat bog, have someone a few feet away jump up and down. You will be able to feel their landing through the ground very easily.

After this we got an in-depth tour of the plant, following every step of the process. Malting floor, cooking and smoking, fermenting, etc., etc. We got to taste the ‘beer’ (fermented but not yet distilled) which was the best beer I’ve ever had, and in fact the first I’ve found superior to water. Sadly they do not sell it. We got to throw a hunk of peat on the fire to smoke the malt, and to taste the malt itself at several stages. A few more drams of whiskey were included as well.

The final stop in the tour is a selection of three casks (that day they had a 1998, a 1999, and a two-thousand-something). You taste from each cask, then get to fill a bottle from your favorite to take home. Three single cask, cask strength, aged ten years give or take to choose from – quite the party favor! I will talk more about cask strength later, but I will note that not only is the alcohol stronger, the flavor is as well. It is not overwhelming, however; it is IMO easier to pick out the subtle sub-flavors. I chose the 1999, and was quite pleased to be able to take some home. Luckily they DO sell cask strength in the US, though single cask will be hard to find at best. Speaking of exporting whiskey, did you know Sweden drinks up a huge amount of the total percentage of Scotch that is exported? This despite a population a tiny fraction the size of the US.

From Laphroaig, you can see Ireland on a clear day. Or, as in my case, a clear enough day. This makes Ireland one of the few countries I can say I’ve seen in person but not been to.

Last, but not least, Islay has a very old Celtic stone cross. Surrounded by sheep on this visit - including a ram I had something of a staring contest with.

The journey was not easy, but the tour was more than worth it.

Scotland Day 3

Britishism of the day: Lift vs. elevator

American tourist move of the day: OK, the bus is going west so I should wait on the north side of the street... or not...

Today I managed to get someone else to do the driving by taking a bus tour of Glasgow.

Glasgow is full of buses. Most are the classic double-deckers, including the tour buses which manage to stay reasonably full despite running every half hour during the day. You can hop off at any stop and get back on any later bus, which is a quite nice system. The first bus had a live guide who told amusing stories as well as giving the standard tour spiels, though sadly none of the later buses I picked were so equipped.

Among the stops I took was Glasgow Cathedral, which asks male guests to kindly remove their hats (yes, I did). Glasgow is where I first really grasped the continuity and extent of Scottish history. The place is filled with war memorials in various states of repair and grandeur. WWI and WWII are of course well represented, but so are conflicts such as the Boar War and others that one can barely make out.

As with a castle, being in a cathedral gives you a different sense than looking at a drawing. The numerous subdivisions on the main floor (including an upper area still used as a church and the inevitable gift shop) make the cathedral a different breed from a ‘normal’ church in the US or for that matter elsewhere in Scotland.

The tour also went past Provence Lordship, a medieval house now serving as a small museum which I visited a few days later.

The United Kingdom has a large population of Indians – a legacy of its days of empire. Their food has become a major staple of the local diet, and for good reason in my opinion. Today I enjoyed a very tasty curry along with fresh nan. Chips (French fries in US parlance) are good, but they do not make a meal. Curry and nan and rice do. Overall I was very pleased with the quality and variety of food available in Scotland (even the Haggis, which will be mentioned in its turn). The prices were often on the steep side once one converted to dollars (roughly $1.50 per pound at the time of this visit), but hey, splurging a bit while on vacation doesn’t hurt.

One other local phenomenon is worthy of note. Despite temperatures in the 40’s (Fahrenheit scale), quite a lot of women of all ages wander the streets wearing either short shorts or short skirts over stockings or leggings. While this is not universal, I would not expect that many short skirts on even a warm day in the US. Of course, I’m not objecting…

Scotland Day 2

Britishism of the day: roundabout instead of rotary.

American tourist move of the day: None! (That I noticed.)

Today was all about Stirling Castle.

First of all, if you’ve never been in a real, mostly intact castle it is hard to describe. Sure, its on a big hill, stone walls, towers… the elements are easy to describe. But the whole of the thing is more difficult.

Perhaps it is my experience in the SCA, but looking at the thing from ground level I kept thinking “wow, I wouldn’t want to attack that without modern weapons…” which, of course, is the often-forgotten point of a castle. The castle was a deterrent in peacetime and a force multiplier (a huge one) in war. Castles were not static structures (something I knew academically before this but, again, didn’t truly grasp). Buildings and walls get knocked down, replaced, or expanded; sometimes due to violent applications of hostile force, sometimes peacefully. No one is sure when the first castle was built on the site currently occupied by Stirling – nine hundred years ago is when surviving references begin to place events there, but as they refer to things occurring in an established location all we can say for sure about the original construction is ‘before that.’ The castle overlooks a huge sweep of the valley between Glasgow and Edinburgh. The non-functional cannons in its several surviving batteries command the nearby river crossings. Several famous battles have been fought within sight of its walls and the castle itself was besieged more than once.

Most of the castle is bare stone at this point, but one building has been restored (based on forensic archeology) to its original appearance: a yellowish colored plaster smoothes out the stone, making a single bright surface quite at odds with the traditional image of a castle. Some inner areas have been restored or reconstructed also: the kitchens, the great hall, a chapel, and several rooms of the royal residence. Some of this is admitted guesswork; knowing what furniture was present in the royal rooms but not the details of its design, for example.

Stirling was home to a set of tapestries depicting the hunt of a unicorn. This is presented as being a metaphor for the search for Christ. The tapestries are currently being recreated by a team of weavers who’ve been working on them, by hand, for several years. This is an SCA Laurel-quality project on a huge scale; the dyes, the tools, and the thread are all chosen for authenticity. Some of the work is being done on-site, and gives a feel for just what went into the decorations of such a place. We're talking about man-years, not man-hours, (OK, mostly woman-hours if you prefer) as a measurement.

The castle is also home to a regimental museum for the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders. The British Regimental system is far too complicated to address here, but suffice to say that elements of the regiment fought in most of the major conflicts of the last 200 years – from the Napoleonic Wars to the ‘war on terror.’ Battle flags and regimental silver are interspersed with mementos and stories. My favorite was of three soldiers who were captured in WWII. They escaped from their POW camp and then made their way across Europe by speaking Gaelic and pretending to be Russians. They encountered a number of German translators and passed muster each time, two of them making it back to Britain.

The castle kitchens are another recreated environment, and provide both good atmosphere and details to gladden the eye of any SCAdian; recipes (both in their original form and with modern ‘translations’), details of feasts and purchases, and some exhibits showing how food was presented (at least for the head table).

Stirling begins what will soon become apparent as a trend: multiple gift shops. The castle has no less than four, one dedicated to the regimental museum. None of these are especially large and some merchandise repeats, but they do have distinctly different flavors. Speaking of flavors, Stirling Castle has its own special whiskey, a 12 year old Speyside Single Malt. This also will prove to be a trend.

“Everyone said I was daft to build a castle on top of a giant plug of volcanic rock… well, actually only the builders said that…”

Scotland Day 1

You are in a maze of twisty little streets, all different.

Growing up I played the original Zork. Yup, text-only, "kill thief with sword", "It is dark, you might be eaten by a Grue...". One of the challenging parts of the game was mapping the dungeon. The hardest part of mapping was the maze. Each room simply said "You are in a maze of twisty little passages, all alike." Some rooms if you went out, say, the North side you came back into the same room and it didn't even tell you that you were looping. I gave up and cheated - the game included a book of cheats, including a map of the maze. I admit it, I used the map (only of the maze, though). OTHERwise, I beat the game the hard way.

I gave up on Glasgow before I even started. I downloaded a street map to my phone that would allow me to use its GPS to track me around. One way streets in a twisted mess are bad, but surely GPS would trump it? Not so much. The Scots know that silly American tourists come over and expect to be able to navigate with their GPS systems. So they trump them - with randomly dividing streets, and a profusion of no left/right turns signs (plus the odd 'no straight'). One intersection allowed neither a right nor a left turn onto a two-way street! To keep things interesting, either some of the pedestrians are suicidal or they have very good life insurance policies. People cross streets at random and assume cars will stop for them - smack in between two crosswalks, or at one with the 'don't walk' symbol lit. Driving on the left turns out not to be a big deal. Driving at all is the big deal.

After quite a few blocked routes, the odd wrong turn, and nearly killing someone, I did make it to the Barras; a street market held in amongst some antique/curio shops. I had been hoping for more touristy products and less aimed at the locals, but did find a few interesting things. I also picked up some biscuits (semi-sweet cookies, for the uninitiated). Yum. :-)

In the afternoon I once again took steering wheel in hand and braved the maze to visit one of the few remains of the Antonine Wall - the foundations of a Roman bath that was part of the fort at Bearsden. Despite the fact that the Antonine Wall (unlike the more famous and more southerly Hadrian's Wall) was only around for a short time the Romans built typically lasting works. One can still see much of the functional structure (stone ductwork, basically) of the baths. The Romans really knew how to build.

Scotland, Day 0

So, I just returned from a week and a half in Scotland. This was my first international trip (barring visits to Canada) since high school, and of course since 9/11 made all air travel more complicated.

In short, it was a blast. I long... there will be a bunch of posts forthcoming. :-)

Anyway, Scotland Day 0:

Unintentional Britishism of the day: 'join the queue' instead of 'line up.'

American Tourist (tm) move of the day: pushing "1" in the elevator and expecting to go to the ground floor.

The outbound flight was somewhat problematic - the plane was delayed six hours due to mechanical problems in Britain. British Airways did give us each a $19 (why $19 instead of a nice round $20?) coupon for airport food. Once we got on board things were nicer. The first leg was direct to Heathrow (London's primary airport) on a 747-400. In seat In Flight Entertainment included a selection of free movies (watched "Up" for the first time) and a 'where am I' flight tracking program that first thought we were going to Iceland then, about the time we went feet-dry over Scotland, thought we were going back to Seattle. Still, the food was tasty (dinner and breakfast) and BA includes liquor without additional charge. US airlines, please take note - OK, not of the delay, but of everything else.

Heathrow is a warren reminiscent of a RoboRalley mapboard. Just figuring out the right line to get in was more than mildly challenging at times.

British Customs wasn't satisfied to know that I was an engineer. They wanted to know what kind of engineer I was.
Through customs, I had to go through security again before getting on the hop to Glasgow. Perhaps I should have parachuted out when we flew over on the way to Heathrow. I can't really fault the Brits for putting people through security again; I don't trust the TSA to screen adequately, why should they?

Arrived at the hotel safely, and found a wrinkle I'd never encountered before. You have to insert your keycard into a card reader next to the main light switch and leave it there in order to operate anything requiring electrons in the room. I expect, given the general trend of other equipment in the room, this is intended as a power-saving measure since it means you WILL turn out the lights and such when you leave the room.

My First Step into Politics?

OK, probably not, but still…

Volunteering to be a picket captain for a strike that didn’t happen apparently got me on SPEEA’s list of People Who Do Things. One of the Things we do when we’re not planning for a strike is have Council Representatives who represent specific districts (geographical concentrations of SPEEA members).

Council Rep is an unpaid position, and has almost no power. It somewhat unsurprising, then, that the union has trouble filling the slots. The Everett region has 29 districts with one to six representatives each (total of 59) for which we had 61 candidates. However, candidates must represent their own district. Eight of those districts don’t have enough candidates this year (four, including one with two seats, have none) and ten have more candidates than seats, the latter triggering an election. I’m in one of the remaining eleven districts that managed to have exactly as many candidates as seats, which means we (and the folks from the under-represented districts) will automatically get seated.

Now we get to the tiny shred of politics. I didn’t just throw my name in the hat on my own. One of the union staff called me and asked me to (see above note about People Who Do Things). In order to transform myself from ‘interested’ to ‘candidate’ I had to collect the signatures of 15 of my fellow engineers endorsing me for the position – or, since they wouldn’t be bound to support me if we actually had an election, endorsing me over an empty seat.

I collected 18 (the form had spaces for 18 in case some non-union engineer sneaks in by mistake). Yes, I physically walked up to 18 people (more than that, actually, I asked a few people who were Techs, and thus not eligible to sign due to arcane union rules) and asked them to sign something supporting me, personally. I wrote up a brief (84 words) statement about myself in case the race was contested.

And I did it in four hours, in between other tasks at work.

I’m sure it isn’t the shortest campaign in history but it was, in fact, a campaign.

Sure, I’ve been elected before. I held offices in APhiO and KGB in college, for example. However I never, that I remember, actually spent time trying to drum up support, no matter how fleeting. Candidate statements, if any, were brief and usually verbal-only during whatever meeting the elections were held at. Further, the offices were secondary positions. Secretary, Sergeant At Arms, Historian, and so on, rather than President, Treasurer, or some such. Staff officers, in military terms, rather than command positions. Well, one exception; I was the Chapter representative for an APhiO National Convention.

Council Rep is a very junior post too, but it is a command slot.

This position also has one other difference from any elected position I’ve had to date. It is a consciously chosen stepping stone to something larger – in this case, eventual participation in contract negotiations between SPEEA and Boeing.

OK, I only beat an empty seat. Still… everyone has to start somewhere.

Reporting Artifact

Every so often, I use what I consider a basic term in conversation or online and come across complete ignorance that the term even exists on the part of my audience. I will here attempt to define ‘reporting artifact’ for future reference.

One often sees in the news a report that ‘twice as many cases of cancer have been diagnosed as last year’. The natural conclusion is that twice as many people got cancer. This is, in fact, a conclusion COMPLETELY unsupported by the data presented. One way that it may be a false conclusion (there are several ways) is due to the possibility of a reporting artifact. In this specific case, suppose ten times as many people were screened for cancer as last year. Would the doubling of diagnoses in a such a case indicate an increase in cancer? Quite the opposite – that would indicate that the cancer is one fifth the prior year’s level. That is a reporting artifact. Broadly stated, if you find something more only because you LOOKED for it a LOT more, it is a reporting artifact. The flip side is too: if you stop looking for something and stop finding it that, again, is a reporting artifact.

Criminal statistics are particularly subject to reporting artifacts. The reason is quite simple: people do not always report crimes. Certain crimes are more likely to be reported than others; homicide, for example, produces a body which will usually be found at some point. Robbery produces no such gross physical evidence. You can not PROVE that a homicide has NOT occurred (unless you can produce everyone who might have been murdered), but the fact that bodies tend to turn up eventually and that people wonder what happened to the victim means we can reasonably conclude that the fact that a murder has happened becomes part of a statistical set most of the time. Not so with robbery – even if you could demonstrate that everything is where it should be that doesn’t prove there weren’t TWO robberies; the second reversing the perpetrator and victim of the first.

The situation is aggravated by the fact that most crimes go unsolved (especially minor ones) and reporting a crime has negative consequences even for the victim. If nothing else, paperwork and lost time. This produces a negative incentive to report a minor crime; if someone steals a small amount of your money you might be better off working to make more money rather than spending the same amount of time working with the police to solve the crime. The crime might never be solved, and even if it is you might not get your money back.

Rape is often recognized as an under-reported crime despite being much more serious. Some of the same factors are in play; what has been lost cannot be recovered, even if the assailant is found the “I say/you say” dynamic frequently prevents a conviction, and even a conviction provides no guarantee that the assailant will not rape someone else in the future. Toss in various cultural stigmata against the victim and the fact that to report the event they must discuss taboo issues with strangers. Yes, modern US culture has taboos.

Attempts to compare rape statistics are thus subject to a very high likelihood of reporting artifacts.

As noted above, disease and injury are another common place where reporting artifacts occur. Just about everyone who has a heart attack shows up in statistics somewhere (or so we can reasonably assume; again, we can’t prove it all that well). Just about anyone, however, knows someone who got a papercut. Most of them do not show up in statistics (ER visits, EMS calls, etc., though some people do in fact seek advanced medical treatment for papercuts – boy do I wish I was making that up). So if we have a statistic that shows that there are more reported heart attacks than paper cuts, does that mean that heart attacks are more likely? Probably not.

If we posted a reward for reporting paper cuts we would introduce yet another reporting artifact; people being people, someone will deliberately give themselves a paper cut in order to get the reward. If we are trying to collect data on accidental papercuts we have just distorted our data set.

Even polling can’t eliminate reporting artifacts; people will lie, or forget, or misunderstand what is being asked. So if we poll people about their papercuts, some will forget how many they’ve gotten, some will deny they went to the hospital, and some will assume that we were asking about all accidental cuts, not just ones from paper. Note this is for something with minimal emotional impact for most people. An issue with political or emotional overtones will usually be worse (gunshots, rape, etc.).

The root of a reporting artifact is that what happens is different from what is observed, and what is observed is different from what is recorded.

Reporting artifacts can be identified without allowing meaningful analysis, especially if multiple artifacts may be at work. Cracks in airplane wings happen. People often, but not always, find them. When they find them they usually, but not always, report them. If a regulatory agency tells operators to go look for specific cracks in specific places they are more likely to find those cracks. Big cracks are more likely to be reported than small cracks. 1st world airlines are more likely to find cracks than 3rd world airlines. 3rd world airlines are more likely to have cracks (older airplanes) than 1st world airlines. If a database lists ten times as many cracks in 1st world airplanes is it because 3rd world airlines aren’t finding them, or are finding them but not reporting them? Can we know the actual ratio of cracks? Can we prove that the 3rd world airlines have any significant number of unreported cracks? The last is possible, though only with extreme care could such information be used to determine a ‘real’ ratio.

That is the real problem of reporting artifacts: even if you can prove they exist, it is far harder to adjust for them.

Let all those who compare statistics beware.

Precedent

Lately, I’ve been noticing more and more appeals to precedent in arguments. Note, I’m not innocent of this myself.

The idea that precedent is definitive is, in my opinion, highly flawed. Precedent (assuming that it is, in fact, precedent and not something unrelated to the issue in question) is certainly relevant to a discussion or debate, but it should not be considered authoritative.

Precedent is what someone else, in an earlier time, in a similar but not identical situation (since no two situations can ever be TRULY identical), did. It does not mean, please note, that what they did was right or had a good outcome even then. If someone decided to round up six million Jews and kill them there’s a precedent for that. It would be a very, very bad precedent to follow.

Precedent is, however, worth noting. If you can extrapolate your future position from your current position without being informed by one or more precedents you are quite lucky. Most actions have unforeseen consequences. If you are able to look at the unforeseen consequences of similar actions to those you are contemplating in the past, then those particular unforeseen consequences won’t be unforeseen. They may still happen, of course, but at least you can try to prepare for them.

Precedent seems to be especially prevalent in the modern US judicial system, taking precedent (gotta love the English language) even over the written law. This often angers me. If nothing else, it should be noted that judicial precedents are often overturned. Surely something that is repeatedly shown to be flawed should not be relied upon?

As an engineer, of course, I use precedent every day. We call it ‘test results’ or something like that, but we operate on the basic premise that because something happened once (an object of such-and-such characteristics failed under such-and-such conditions) it can, and at some point probably will, happen again. If we have a lot of matching precedents (ten similar objects that all failed under similar conditions) we predict the future with confidence (another similar object will fail under the same conditions). Without precedent there would BE no engineering. You can’t do calculations without some basis to do them upon.

There is, however, a key difference. Engineering is quantified, and a chaotic element is hammered into the brains of up-and-coming engineers. Any good engineer allows a ‘factor of safety’ based on how good their precedents are and the consequences of failure. When precedents fail to be predictive we study them to learn why. And quantify that data and make it part of the NEW precedent.

Human lives are, at present, not subject to being quantified as individuals. The chaotic factors are too high, the variables too uncertain. Engineers can predict with very high confidence the minimum level of force and the application of it needed to destroy a piece of metal of known type. Not so human beings. Part of that is our variability – note the ‘of known type’ bit. If I don’t know whether I’m hitting aluminum or steel I have no idea how much force to apply. Without knowing the grade of steel and its characteristics (hardening? Temperature?) I likewise don’t know enough. Human beings are not so easily tabulated. Our actions are even less so.

Humans in groups are a little easier – as with any large system, the mistakes tend to cancel each other out. This is a basic principle of system engineering – you need not assume the worst case for all your material properties. Similarly you need not assume that all people are at the bottom end of the bell curve.

Again, though, there are parallels: good engineering insists on recognizing that some of your components WILL be at the bottom of spec (or even below it). We must also recognize that some humans in any large group will be at the bottom of the moral bell curve. They are our criminals.

There are, however, even more important divergences. Again, humans are not easily tabulated. If one is presented ten samples of a steel tempered to ten increasing levels of hardness, provided with data for all but the fifth and asked to predict the properties of the fifth an engineer can do this with high confidence. This is called interpolation, and is possible because one has carefully controlled all but a single variable. Multi-variable systems require many more data points, and have a strong tendency to have points of chaotic behavior. Many bridges had been built similar to the Tacoma Narrows Bridge (famously the ‘Galloping Girdy’). Only that EXACT bridge under those EXACT wind conditions was destroyed by resonance. The same bridge in another place might have lasted a hundred years. Had a dozen similar bridges been erected in the same place both ones of greater and lesser structural integrity would almost certainly have survived. A bridge of equivalent ‘strength’ but different design would have survived. Interpolation based on even very good data could easily have produced a failure like the GG (i.e. building multiple similar bridges in the same area in a range of stiffnesses, size, etc. bounding the intended design). A bridge is a complex system. So are people… except people are much worse.

Worst of all, humans, unlike any other material dealt with by engineers, are self willed. Steel does not WANT to break (or not break). A bridges does not CARE if it stands or falls. Again, I, like most engineers and non-engineers I know, routinely imply that this is not the case. We ascribe motivation to objects when they fail (or don’t fail when we expect them to), or blame it on the gods, take your pick. Humans may be aware they are being measured and their actions predicted and may choose to act on that information. Steel doesn’t know it is about to be cut, and can’t harden itself to resist (or soften itself to be ‘helpful’). Humans may choose to do either one.

And so we get back to my contempt for judicial precedent. Judicial precedent is an attempt to handle an individual by its nature – large groups are rarely involved. A single, original precedent is typically cited, rather than the body of decisions already based on that precedent. Again, note my contempt is not for the law – setting a standard is a necessary stage in gathering data. Worst of all, the huge range of variables present between any two human beings are routinely ignored in favor of a few similarities.

As yet, we cannot even truly deal with human bodies in engineering terms (most medicines, for all their extensive testing, would be considered to have unacceptably high failure rates in most engineering disciplines). Human brains are, from the limited evidence available, much worse.

I say, leave precedent to the engineers. The justice system can have it only after the medical system gets its error rate down.

SET

I have for many years been a member of SET – the Society for the Elimination of TLAs (Three Letter Acronyms).

SET is an advocate for TAE – Total Acronym Eradication.

In addition to being a founding member of SET, I am also a SVP (Senior Vice President).

I helped found SET after realizing that I had bought something at EMS (Eastern Mountain Sports) for use in EMS (Emergency Medical Services).

This, of course, called to mind one of my favorite lines from the movie “Good Morning Vietnam”: “Since the VP is such a VIP should we keep the PC on the QT?”

While I was at CMU (Carnegie Mellon University, not to be confused with Central Michigan University), or more accurately while I was at CIT (Carnegie Institute of Technology, one of the colleges that make up CMU) one of the senior SCS (School of Computer Science, another of the colleges in CMU) professors was asked what he thought the fundamental limits of computer science would be. He thought for a moment, then answered “there are only 17,576 possible three letter acronyms.” It is my opinion that he was at least partially serious.

Boeing, of course, is extremely fond of acronyms. We use AP for Air Plane, or A/C for Air Craft. L/N for Line Number. AOG for Aircraft On Ground (which means it has been grounded, and thus an urgent situation, not that it is just unloading at an airport). Every airline has a three-letter customer code. Even airlines which only have two words in their name. Boeing itself, of course, has BCA (Boeing Commercial Aircraft), BDS (Boeing Defense and Space), and EOT (Engineering Operations and Technology) divisions.

I half expect that at some seniority level (say, 25 years with the company) I will be taught the secret handshake and told that Boeing is actually an acronym – Bringing Overall Engineering Into a New Globe or something. Perhaps Big Overbearing Executive Idiots... or perhaps we shouldn't go there.

Happiness

A reporter on NPR today noted that the object of the things government does is to make people happy.

While I can’t refute that many politicians and bureaucrats might claim this is the case, I don’t believe that is, nor should it be, the case.

The purpose of government is not to make us happy. The purpose is to make us safer, and to do things that we could not effectively accomplish as individuals. The actual reason governments do things is almost always to help a politician get re-elected or to allow them to do something that will make THEM happy. Of course, it probably helps your chances of re-election if your constituents are happy, but big campaign contributions help more.

There’s a quote attributed to Henry Ford, along the lines of “if I had asked people what they wanted, they would have told me they wanted faster horses.” The goal of government should not be to give people what they WANT. It should be to give them what they NEED – even if they don’t know they need it. What the people, inevitably, WANT is bread and circuses – for free, of course. What they need are standard weights and measures, clean water, armed forces, etc. Sure, if you ask people “do you want those” they’ll usually say yes – but if you just ask them what they want they’re unlikely to make the top ten.

Yet another quote is often told as a joke about a French political activist who sees a crowd running by. He runs after them, saying “I must see where My People are going so that I can lead them!” This is, in fact, a good way to get elected. It is NOT leadership. It is NOT what governments should do. What a leader would do is say “I know that you’re running this way, but here’s why you really want to run the other way instead.” A successful leader gets the crowd to go in a direction they weren’t already going. This seldom makes people happy in the short term, and in the long term they usually forget that someone else got them going in a better direction. So it has nothing to do with happiness.

What is good for us often doesn’t make us happy. Taking nasty-tasting medicine doesn’t make you happy – but it makes you healthy. Getting your vaccinations doesn’t make you happy. Eating healthy food doesn’t make you happy. You only get happier about these things if you can connect them with their long term benefits. In government, the long-term benefits ought to be the primary objective; make the investments that private industry won’t make because they won’t pay off fast enough. Maintain the military in peacetime so that it is ready to win when war comes. Build GOOD roads that will last and require less maintenance in the long run. People waiting months while a new 100-year bridge is built would be happier if a 10 year bridge was slapped together. At least for one election cycle.

I think this is part of the key problem with our country as it is today – we confuse the way things are with the way we want them and the way they should be.

From the Frontlines: Ursulmas

The feast of St. Ursul of Aquaterra was once again celebrated this year with violence and commerce.

Hmm. Maybe the mainstream holidays aren't the only ones becoming commercialized... :-)

This year for the first time in at least five years the main activities were split between two halls (so with the archery/thrown weapons we had three locations). It is my opinion that this didn't work very well; not enough cross-traffic between the fighting (heavy, rapier, and YAC were located in one hall) and the rest (merchants, A&S, etc.).

Lord Nigel, our current Baronial Bardic Champion, however, was an overachiever again and got a number of bards to perform in pre-scheduled slots on a 'stage' (backdrop, seating, and everything) throughout both days. Wanting to encourage this, I did a slot Saturday and one Sunday (30-40 minutes each) despite having the tail end of a cold. The audiences were small (about a dozen people at peak for either of my performances) but responsive. I hope we do it again next year.

House Weir (which has near-complete overlap with the Emerald Rain dance troupe) did a static display instead of dancing this year; everything a moorish woman would have had with her while traveling. Most of us pitched in something as well as the documentation for it (clothing, jewelry, food, furnishings, etc.). Somewhat to my surprise we won Best Static Display. I'd half forgotten there WAS a Best Static Display award!

I participated in the youth scavenger hunt, composed a story tying the various stages of it together (made a knife at A&S, went to Thrown Weapons to try it out, hurt myself and needed a Chiurgeon, etc.), and at the end each person got to make a quickie copy of a period board game (I chose an Roman form of tic-tac-toe). It was quite fun though I got a few odd looks.

All in all a good event, but I really hope we can re-unite the two major sections in one place next year.

Women in Combat

The Pentagon just announced that it is opening up the ground combat arms to women. I think this was a bad decision.

My concern however, is much less about the women than the men.

Male decision making ability goes down in the presence of women. Combat requires quite a bit of decision making – dig in or advance? Flank or assault? Dodge left or right? Press the attack or withdraw? The male members of a mixed unit will thus be less effective than if they were in an all-male unit. “Less effective in combat” of course, leads directly to higher casualties.

The problem remains even if the women are segregated into their own units – the commander of the next higher echelon still has to make decisions about them. Less of a problem then if the women are actually present, of course, but still a problem. And how will the neighboring units (some of them inevitably all-male) react?

Then there’s the elephant in the room – pregnancy. Women in the military do get pregnant despite the best efforts of birth control, regulations, separation off-duty, and everything else that has been tried. If a woman in a support role becomes pregnant she can generally be replaced with minimal loss to unit cohesion. Combat units, however, need to be very closely tied together. Short term replacements (even, as demonstrated painfully during WWII, when they themselves are veterans) die at a MUCH higher rate than those fully integrated into the unit. Do we mandate abortions for women who become pregnant? What if the woman in question doesn’t want an abortion? Do we limit combat positions to women willing to have abortions if they become pregnant? What if they change their mind?

Finally, there’s the companion to the elephant; the practical bottleneck to producing the next generation are women, not men. A man can conceive hundreds of children (allowing just one per day) in the same time a woman can carry just one to term. A woman’s biological ability to put her genetic material into the next generation is a long term process. A man can do so while on a 24 hour pass. The women who are willing and able to ‘stand between their loved home and war’s desolation’ are among the ones we’d most like to pass their genes onto the next generation… and just about the least able to do so while doing their job.

It has been argued that women are already on the front lines of the current war (as the current war has no ‘rear area’). This is more the exception than the rule, but let’s stipulate it for now. We are also assured that the current war is ending Real Soon Now. The next war’s character is unknowable. Counter-insurgency seems like a reasonable guess, but even counter-insurgency missions often have secure rear areas.

Of course, the nature of the current geo-political situation means the US is unlikely to be endangered by a decrease in the effectiveness of its military forces any time soon. In fact it would be years before even the total elimination of the US military would present a serious risk to the continental US (or, at least, one more serious than already exists). Once the decision to put women on the front line is implemented, however, it can not easily be undone (see the notes about unit cohesion). If we do find ourselves in a ‘war to the knife’ twenty years down the road (or a hundred, if you prefer) we will likely be outnumbered – counting on superior skill and decision making for our survival.

We might be doomed by men making decisions about women under fire.

Facebook

Is Facebook worth it?

Sure, it is a way to keep in touch with people. Find out what they're thinking, doing, or planning. For a fairly introverted person like me it has the advantage that I don't actually have to talk to them to find this stuff out.

Occasionally I use it to ask for advice. Often I even get useful advice that way.

But the signal-to-noise ratio is very low. Despite my efforts to use FB's filters, I mostly see junk. Poorly written and/or ignorant political posturing (including plenty from people nominally on 'my side' of issues) seems to be the dominant life form even now that the election is over.

I've considered a merciless pruning of my friend list (do I really care what someone I haven't seen since high school is doing? Not really)... but that would be a lot of work. It doesn't help that I've now got a bunch of SCA folks friended; often I don't remember their legal names. Further complicated by friends with similar names, and the fact that no one seems to use a straight face shot of themselves as their profile pic. I'm very afraid of deleting someone because I don't recognize their name or profile pic only to find I've deleted my Baron.

A much easier solution is just to stop visiting (perhaps deleting my account, perhaps not). Then, however, I lose what little signal I was getting. Along with the cute cat pictures - they probably don't count as 'signal', but they're fun.